Wolseley’s orders were to demand that King Kakari withdraw his forces from the British protectorate, make reparations to the Fante and other coastal peoples for injuries and losses, and give securities for lasting peace. If diplomacy should fail, Wolseley was to threaten war, secure in his government’s promise of sufficient force to compel the Asante to agree to British terms. Wolseley was given discretion to negotiate peace terms as he saw fit, and he was given permission to ask the Asante for high-ranking hostages to be held until their promises were kept. He was also told to do what he could to put an end to human sacrifice and the slave trade in the Asante kingdom (no mention was made of ending these practices in the British protectorate where they were also commonplace). There was no mention of marching on Kumase, much less destroying it, but that is what Wolseley was determined to do.12
Wolseley, his officers, and several newspaper reporters, including the famous Henry Stanley who had found Dr. Livingston, sailed from Liverpool on September 12th on board HMS Ambriz, a ship that disgusted even the most stalwart of these hardy souls. The berths had been painted with enamel only twelve hours earlier and smelled appallingly, there was foul-smelling bilge water several inches deep in the cabins, and the old ship tossed sickeningly. The voyage south was the most miserable any of them had ever experiWhile Wolseley and his shipmates were enjoying a welcomenced. stopover at Madeira, they learned of an incident that put the Gold Coast on the front pages of newspapers all over Britain. In July Royal Navy Commodore Commerell arrived at Cape Coast aboard HMS Rattlesnake, the first of several ships to arrive with fresh Royal Marines and West Indian troops. Early in August it was rumored that Amankwatia was moving troops close to the Pra River near the coast and was planning to cross the river in force. Unable to obtain any useful intelligence from Fante spies, who were terrified at the thought of approaching closely enough to Amankwatia’s army to learn anything of significance, Commerell decided to make a reconnaissance up the river in small boats. Hugging the right bank of the river to stay as far away as possible from Asante scouts thought to be on the left bank, Commerell’s boats were about a mile and half upriver when a fusillade of shots erupted from the right bank at a range of only ten yards. Four men were killed and six officers and fourteen men wounded, Commodore Commerell among them. British public opinion blamed the Asante for this ambush, but in fact the shots were fired by men of a coastal people sympathetic to the Asante.13
When the Ambriz finally arrived in Sierra Leone, several officers were sent off to recruit African soldiers and supply carriers. Wolseley had his first contact with Africans there, and it confirmed his prejudices. He wrote to his wife that “the Negroes are like so many monkeys; they are a lazy, good-for-nothing race.” 14 Soon after arriving at Cape Coast, he declared that “the African” was an “objectionable animal” who was intended to be “the white man’s servant.” 15
Wolseley and his men had arrived at Cape Coast on October 2nd to find it in a state of panic. The Asante army had crossed the Pra Biver and was encamped nearby, and there were no more than one hundred West Indian soldiers to defend the town. Wolseley had counted on finding three hundred well-trained Hausa soldiers armed with powerful .57-caliber breech-loading Sniders at Cape Coast, but these men had been taken up the Volta River by Captain Glover, who had arrived there ahead of him. The general was not pleased. The one hundred men Wolseley did find belonged to the 2nd West India Regiment, small detachments of which were stationed elsewhere on the coast. These were well-armed and disciplined troops, even though their uniforms did much to belie it—they wore scarlet fezzes and jackets with yellow braid, baggy black pantaloons and yellow gaiters. These uniforms were so unsuited to tropical warfare that they were replaced by the same gray homespun and pith helmets to be worn by British troops. The West Indians were proud of their new uniforms. However, they continued to amuse British officers by their practice of carrying loads on their heads with their pith helmets perched precariously on top.
As might be imagined from his comments about Africans, Wolseley had little confidence in them or other black soldiers as fighting men. However, he did attempt in vain to recruit fighting men among the Fante, which is perhaps just as well, because he had few weapons to arm them with and they had no will to fight. When skirmishes did break out, they regularly fired at other British-led African militia rather than the Asante, and they were characterized by one British officer as “infinitely worse than useless.” 16 He rapidly sent word to the fleet offshore that he was in urgent need of men and weapons. Marines and sailors armed with Sniders came ashore, bringing with them artillery and rockets. Cape Coast was quickly entrenched, and General Wolseley soon felt secure enough about his defenses that he actually hoped the Asante would attack against his massed firepower.
Instead, without orders from Kumase, General Amankwatia decided to attack the fort at Elmina. He provided his men with at least one thousand boarding ladders to scale its walls but failed to understand how murderous British cannon and rifle fire could be. At least one thousand men died in the assault on Elmina castle, and many others died in several smaller battles that followed. Small numbers of Royal Marines, sailors, and West Indian soldiers engaged small units of Asante troops in battles that invariably began with the sounds of the Asante’s characteristic “singing cheer,” followed by the voices of their officers urging them on. When the firing ended, hundreds of Asante lay dead. The first of the Ambriz officers to die was Lieutenant Eardley Wilmot, whose arm was so badly shattered that surgeons later said it would have had to be amputated had he lived. Yet he led his troops for a full hour with his arm dangling in excruciating pain until he was shot through the heart.17
After one of these battles, an incident took place that illustrates the favorable attitude that many Asante had toward the British at that time. A British officer came upon a half-dozen men from the British-led African soldier militia grappling with a short, powerful Asante soldier whom they had disarmed but could not quite kill. The Asante soldier fought them off with amazing strength as some men battered at his skull with their musket butts while others tried to hold him down. A uniformed Hausa soldier was so intent on finding an opportunity to slit the man’s throat that he did not notice a British officer’s arrival. The white man immediately punched the Hausa in the ear with such force that he toppled over, and the Asante took the opportunity to hurl himself at the British major and grasp his hand. The Asante thought that the white man would save him, and he was right. It was obvious that most Asante, at least, were sincere about not wishing to fight the white men, and British officers still believed in taking prisoners.
While Amankwatia negotiated with Kumase for permission to withdraw his sick and hungry army from the coast, many of his men conducted trade with their allies the Elmina and again threatened the small British garrison at Elmina fort. Wolseley boldly decided to disrupt their trade. Gathering 150 Royal Marines, 29 sailors, 126 Hausas (an ethnic group from northern Nigeria, but also the name the British applied to many Africans from that general area), and along with nearly 200 men of the 2nd West India Regiment accompanied by 300 African supply carriers, he marched his men twenty-one miles along the beach toward Elmina. The marines who had been on board ship under dreadful conditions quickly became exhausted, but a large case of red wine was sent ashore, and they were soon said to be “new men,” as a newspaper correspondent who marched with them wrote.18 This was not quite right. The sweat-soaked, dehydrated men were barely able to stagger into Elmina fort, and all of the officers with them soon fell ill.
The battle that followed was inconclusive, but it thrilled a veteran newspaper man who witnessed it:
It is difficult to describe that human tornado which raged for half an hour over half a mile of African bush. The enemy were on all sides, and the firing incessant. The air was all flame and smoke, and filled with various sounds—the booming of guns, the whizzing of rockets, the cracking of Sniders, shouts, groans, laughter, the whistling of slugs; Haussas chanting verses fro
m the Koran, English hurrahing; and then, as the village began to burn, the roaring of flames, explosions of powder, and blazing of rum.19
Despite the heavy firing there were apparently few casualties on either side, although Wolseley’s chief of staff, Colonel John McNeil, suffered such a severely shattered wrist that he had to be invalided home. Wolseley was sickened by the sight of McNeil’s mangled wrist, but McNeil stoutly tried to stay in the fight. His only comment to Wolseley was, “An infernal scoundrel out there has shot me through the arm.”20 Wolseley used this encounter to confirm his convictions about the uselessness of African troops. The Hausas had fired wildly, and to some extent so had the West Indian troops, leading Wolseley to write to the secretary of state for war that he could not defeat the Asante without English troops. Insisting that their health would not be jeopardized, he asked that these troops be sent at once.
Wolseley could not estimate how long it would take for his message to reach London or, for that matter, what the response would be. As it happened, his dispatch sat at Cape Coast for two weeks before a ship arrived to carry it to Madeira where there were telegraphic facilities. While he waited, Wolseley encouraged his officers to intensify their attempts to recruit African soldiers and supply carriers. It was an unrewarding effort. One Fante chief’s response to a request for men was characteristic: “I have got smallpox today but will come tomorrow.” 21 He did not.
Early in October Wolseley wrote to King Kakari, demanding that he withdraw his army, release all captives, and guarantee indemnification. If he did not agree to do so within twenty days, Wolseley warned him to expect “full punishment.” 22 He sent three copies of the letter, all of which were intercepted by Amankwatia’s men. Instead of forwarding this ultimatum to the king, the general wrote his own reply, in quaint English, asserting that his quarrel was not with the British but with four tributary states that had fled Asante rule to live under the protection of the British. He concluded by saying, “There is no any quarrel with you. I send my love to you.” 23 Wolseley wrote back, thanking the general for his friendly disposition, but reminded him that the original letter was meant for King Kakari.
As this confused correspondence passed back and forth, the British officers continued their efforts to interest coastal people in fighting the Asante. One officer’s comments typified the experience: “I had the greatest trouble with him as he is a true type of the lazy, palm-wine-drinking, good-for-nothing African, who, like all the other native petty princes, has got the idea into his head that the European officers are to do all the real hard work of running about all over the country collecting troops, while his majesty lies all day on his back smoking and drinking. Their total apathy, indifference, and want of energy, is almost maddening to me at times, for neither princes nor people appear at all anxious to go to war.” 24 Despite this widespread lack of enthusiasm for war, some men, many of them Fante, began to arrive at Cape Coast to serve as supply carriers. Fante men were universally scorned for their indolence and cowardice; their most remarkable trait was said to be an ability to sleep so soundly that no amount of physical pummeling could rouse them.25 Fante women, on the other hand, were praised for their cheerfulness and their willingness to carry heavy loads. One Fante woman attracted special attention. Young officers persisted in visiting the newsman Winwood Reade to ogle his voluptuous next-door neighbor, a young woman named Jessie who proved to be frustratingly faithful to her absent husband.
Wolseley did not yet know whether an army would be sent from England, but he knew that he would have to prepare for one by collecting large numbers of Africans to carry supplies and make a road for the army to march along. Beginning as soon as they could, his engineering officers supervised several hundred men in widening and clearing the same road that Bowdich and Dupuis had used on their journeys to Kumase. Not only was the road badly overgrown, it had to be widened to allow four men to march abreast. There were few tools at first, few men as well, and heavy rains often slowed their work. No fewer than 237 streams and rivers had to be bridged if Wolseley was to reach Kumase, and the challenge of chopping down huge trees, then sawing them into usable lumber in 90° heat, put the British engineering officers to a life-threatening challenge. Exhausted, they nevertheless pushed ahead, never doubting that British soldiers would soon need the road they were building with their malaria-racked bodies. Many would die of the disease. Voracious biting ants sometimes interrupted the work, grunting leopards made men nervous at night, huge spiders spun webs that could envelope people as they slept, and slate-colored rats as large as rabbits scrabbled away at them in search of food. Their almost frantic efforts were not helped by African militiamen who tore down bridges for firewood as soon as they were built, defecated on the road, and left tree trunks lying across the road after felling them to no useful purpose.
General Wolseley’s hopes for a railroad had to be abandoned when it was discovered that the astonishing amount of six and a quarter miles of rails already delivered could not be laid because the land was far from being level. A railway engine was converted to use tractor tires, but it had only gone a few yards before it tumbled over into a muddy ditch and was abandoned. The railway was set aside, much to the derision of newspaper men who wondered why the idea had been entertained in the first place. That Bowdich, Hutton, and Dupuis had all noted the presence of valleys and hills was not lost on the newsmen, and the decision to build a railroad when time was so much of the essence and laborers were so difficult to obtain was also ridiculed.26 It was not one of Wolseley’s better ideas.
As the Asante army slowly withdrew to the north, Wolseley fumed in his dispatches to London that he lacked the troops to strike a serious blow at them. The best he could do was use men of his West India Regiment, supplemented by Royal Marines, sailors, and native recruits, to nip at their heels—to “keep them moving,” as he put it. Occasionally, the Asante rear guard stood to fight, and the two sides exchanged fire. Fortunately for the British, almost all of whom were solidly hit by Asante slugs, these were fired at such long range that, except for one sailor who was hit in the eye, they did no more than sting. The African allies the British had pressed into service had even less stomach for combat than the starving and dispirited Asante. British officers flogged men with sticks and umbrellas (which they actually carried into combat), but they would not advance. Many dead Asante were found, apparent victims of starvation, and numerous starving and diseased prisoners of the Asante were left behind to be taken by the British. They were described as living skeletons.27 As Captain Maurice was marching behind some Hausa soldiers under a Captain Gordon, he came upon “a poor little sick boy” who was apparently wounded and starving as well, lying by the side of the road. A Hausa “ran his spear in mere wantonness into the stomach of the poor little wretch. I don’t suppose I shall ever forget the look of agony with which the poor creature drew together his limbs and rolled himself over.” 28 Maurice could not identify the Hausa, and Gordon had no time to stop his column to investigate; so the troops moved on.
As General Amankwatia slowly withdrew toward Kumase, he decided that he would vent some of his rage on the rebellious king of Abra by attacking his capital, Abrakrampa. Amankwatia boasted so publicly about his intention to destroy the king of Abra that his plans became known to Wolseley, who reinforced the British garrison there. Some one thousand armed men, including Marines and Hausas, sited rocket launchers, built stockades, dug shelter trenches, loopholed houses, and converted the brick Wesleyan chapel into a fort. The brush was cleared away for one hundred yards in all directions. The force was commanded by Major Baker Russell, one of Wolseley’s favorites. A cavalryman from the 13th Hussars, Russell was an instinctively effective leader who loved battle. He was noted for reminding the men of the 13th Hussars, a famous regiment, that it was their duty to “look pretty in time of peace and get killed in war.” 29
Amankwatia’s decision “to plant his umbrella” in the Abra king’s capital caused widespread dissension among his junior officers
and soldiers, who were hungry, sick, and tired of war. A threatened mutiny was barely averted by the senior officers, who reluctantly supported Amankwatia. Abrakrampa was so heavily fortified that, by the time the Asante attack finally took place on November 5, it was tantamount to suicide. Still, with their ivory horns blaring out martial music, their drums pounding heavily, and thousands and thousands of men chanting in unison, the Asante soldiers made a valiant charge. But they had to cover one hundred yards in the open and were shot down in such numbers that the charge was beaten back. Despite severe losses they continued to blaze away at the British position for thirty-six hours. When Wolseley was informed about the fighting, he decided to march to the rescue of the garrison with the few men he still had available. When his small force arrived, the Asante had withdrawn, and Baker Russell urged Wolseley to send the marines and Hausas after them to strike at their rear. Wolseley listened, but to Russell’s dismay he delayed for hours while he carefully sited his cannon to the south, not north toward the Asante, and stared in that direction with a fixed expression.30 Wolseley was in the grip of malaria. He gave no orders to the marines or Hausas, but he did finally send his undisciplined coastal allies after the Asante. The Asante badly mauled them, sending them scrambling back in disorder.
While the meager British forces tried to hurry the Asante withdrawal, work on the road was accelerated so that it would be twelve feet wide, free of roots, dry and level. Without skilled labor Major Home, the senior Royal Engineer, and his handful of Royal Engineers had to improvise at every step and do backbreaking work themselves. One crew of Africans cut back the brush, another dug out roots. A third group, more skilled and closely supervised, dug culverts and drains so that the troops would not have to march with wet feet. Another crew built bridges. Major Home reported with chagrin that it had taken twelve hours to bridge a stream that was only six feet across. Home’s men also had to set up supply depots. All of this had to be done while heavy rains fell and Home had only 220 laborers. Despairing, he asked for an additional one thousand men, but it was weeks before any could be found.
The Fall of the Asante Empire Page 14